


A Lazy Day at the Studio

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: Bendy's Murderous Adventure Across Moominvalley [31]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: AU, Anal, Coercive Sex, Other, Rape, grumpy Lazy, grumpy Sammy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:38:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Bendy thinks it would be amusing to have his prophet fuck you. You're intrigued, at first. Sammy isn't, at first.





	A Lazy Day at the Studio

Sammy makes no sense whatsoever, you swear.  He bemoans on and on about Bendy being everything, about wanting to serve him, and all such nonsense that makes no sense to you. That alone is ridiculous enough, as you don’t see how Bendy is much of a God. He is a demon, however, and quite frightening, so one might be confused. 

What makes the least sense to you is how much hemming and hawing he does to try to avoid something Bendy requested of him. 

“It’s an order, dear, I thought you were all about those?” You tell him worriedly. 

“Bendy, my Lord, please-“ Sammy still ignores you in favor of pleading to the little demon, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, sex was nothing to ruffle one’s feathers over. 

Of course, what Bendy is proposing is a touch different than what you’re used to. You adore Snufkins, and Mymbles, as those are varieties of love-making with which you are comfortable and familiar. But as of late, you've expanded your palate, so to speak, and have found that you rather enjoyed sex with Bendy as well, which was quite strange and outside of your norm. 

Now Bendy was intrigued about seeing you and his strange human servant Sammy become intimate. You have some reservations, especially with the way Bendy would like things to go down, but your curiosity - oh, it’s done you in many a time. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself. And if you end up not liking it, well, you need only return to Moominvalley and find yourself a pretty little Snufkin - Bendy would surely help you out to commend your willingness to try new things.

“Won’t you stop supplicating him?” You tell Sammy, crossing your arms and peering up at him. He is terribly tall. Humans leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth, truly, but you’d hate to be rude just on the basis of something he can’t quite help.

Anyhow, you can see why Bendy enjoys him so much. He isn’t like a Snufkin, no, but he’s not a Joxter or a Mymble either. You have to admit that the creatures and people here are quite different than anything you know. But when you see his dread, the zing is a bit like how it feels with a Snufkin. 

“Well, shall we?” You propose and look about for somewhere comfortable to lay. No, you haven’t ever bottomed - you would have liked to, actually, with a Joxter who understands the nice things to enjoy in life, but as it happened, other Joxters didn’t want much to do with you at all. Still, you have some idea of how this should be done. 

“Ah, is there no flora here?” You say mournfully. “No soft bed of wildflowers to lay upon?”

“Sorry, Jox, not a whole lot grows here-“

“I don’t want this-“ Sammy tries again weakly, and you tut. 

Well, with nothing comfortable, you’ll have to make do. You wander to a crate, and contemplate it. “It is frightening, isn’t it?” You tell Sammy over your shoulder, as you strip your pants off and wrap a hand around yourself. It’s certainly not something you get hard over rightaway, as you often do with Snufkin - oh, even the anticipation of them can get you riled - Sighing, you spend a moment thinking of their soft skin and little mouths and big eyes. Feral and skittering along the wilderness like frightened deer, just waiting for a predator to catch up and slaughter them. 

Ahh, there we go. That does help quite a bit. Your thighs are dreadfully cold, however. You lean over the crate, spread your legs, and work your cock dedicatedly. 

“Do hurry, dear,” you call over your shoulder. “It’s rather chilly in here, you know.”

“Bendy,” you hear Sammy whine again. 

Poor boy thinks he’s getting out of this.

Bendy does some patting and reassuring shushes. Sammy makes a noise wholly inappropriate for a grown mumrik. 

“I’m not going to stand here forever,” You remark to Bendy. “If he can’t get it up for this, I’d much prefer finding a Snufkin.”

“Aw c’mon Lazy, be a sport.”

You roll your eyes. You _are_ being a sport. You’re being a very good friend. “Tell that to your Sammy, darling.”

“ _Sammy_ ,” you hear Bendy growl; there’s a yelp and noises that you suspect mean Bendy is helping Sammy to get hard. He’s quite good at that. 

“My Lord, I - I can’t-“ Sammy stutters.

“Shhh. You’re gonna.”

You sigh and wait. Finally he places his hands on the crate on either side of you. You feel his body emanating chill not unlike the way Bendy’s does. It’s not _entirely_ unpleasant, if only because you have become so used to the sensation… and have begun to associate it with rather pleasant feelings. Yes, you take to the cold much more readily than other mumrik might. 

“I don’t-“ Sammy tries one more time.

“Ya better listen t’me,” Bendy sings.

Sammy pushes up your overcoat with shaking hands. 

“Oh, I suppose I ought to-“ you arch your back and look expectantly over your shoulder. Yes, you’re sure this is how it’s supposed to be done. Sammy’s expression is buried under a perpetually grinning mask, but it’s pathetically easy to read the reluctance bleeding off of him. “Just get it over with, and you’ll make him happy,” you advise him. 

“Yeah, c’mon Sammy, don’t be such a mood-killer!"

Sammy emits a comical noise. His hands settle on your hips like he’s handling fine china, and you snort. Your amusement is cut _very_ short when he rudely shoves his sizable cock against your ass, and _quite unsurprisingly_ fails to actually make it in.

“Excuse me.” You flap your hands at him, scandalized. “You don’t _start_ with your dick, dear. You think I’m made of elastic? No no, you start with your fingers-“

Sammy is frozen behind you, like a very large deer paralyzed in place. 

“Do as he says,” Bendy chirruped. 

Sammy’s nearly _shaking_ as he slides a finger into you - you're delighted to find that Sammy comes equipped with the same benefit as Bendy (which is to be expected). That is to say, lube is not necessary, not with ink slicking things up nicely. Originally you had had some fear that the substance might be harmful or poisonous, but it does seem to be composed of elements atypical to normal ink. Elements that have yet to cause you harm. 

You cough and clear some phlegm from your throat, before jutting out your ass more, letting his finger probe in deeper. He’s absolutely graceless about it, a troglodyte if you’ve ever seen one (and you haven’t, but you imagine he’s exactly like one, prying in with no talent). His fingers are pleasantly thick at the very least, and your breath comes a bit short and the sensation. Your own hand works deftly between your legs, keeping you hard for the attention. 

“Go for two, dear.”

Bendy’s cackling, so you bet that poor Sammy has the traumatized aura he seems to wear so often. Yes, you can indeed see why Bendy likes him so much.

“My Lord?” Sammy squeaks like a squashed kitten.

“Do as he says,” Bendy repeats in a sing-song.

Another finger, then. You let out a soft huff. Such a strange and intimate sort of feeling, having someone’s fingers wriggling around in you. Partly, you’re happy this comes from someone who was once flesh and blood - you’re not sure Bendy would have a good idea what _careful_ meant, and he’d likely be rougher than Sammy, even as clumsy as Sammy is. 

His fingers brush over a part in you that sends electric fire skating up your spine, and it curls low between your legs. As soon as you rut instinctively, he loses the spot, and you harrumph with as much grumpiness as you can muster (which, after such a strange and curious sensation, is not much). 

Apparently he’s decided this is sufficient, because next he pulls out his fingers and grips your hips again.

“ _Gentle,_ ” you remind him.

He misses the memo, evidently. As soon as the tip of his cock breaches you, he shoves all the way in to the hilt. Your stomach lurches unpleasantly and you jolt, yelping. Your knees clack against the crate and sting. 

He’s - large. _Very_ large. Large perhaps even for a human and for a mumrik that’s - that’s a lot to take, you’re finding. Words of chastisement hover at your tongue, but you keep your teeth clenched shut to hold back the sudden intense impulse to vomit. Your body seems to throb around him - you can feel your walls tightening and squeezing his flesh.

He hunches over you, a hand between your shoulder blades; you don’t think he _intends_ the next rough thrust, but his body goes and does it anyway, snapping his hips hard in and out once. He sighs a rumbling moan into your ear; it sends shivers all the way down your back. He’s heavy on you, and it’s hard not to feel a little… pinned. You still don’t quite trust yourself to speak, but your heart is thundering, and your thighs feel tingly and oddly numb. 

You look up and see Bendy watching from the side, grinning. Maybe you should tell him you’d rather not do this. You’ve been accommodating, been a good friend, but you’re a little less sure now. Not that you’re frightened or anything like that - just, Sammy _is_ very big and very heavy and you’d rather not feel like a squashed bug. 

Your guts are still churning when Sammy slams in again; you hunch over, nose an inch from the crate, and clutch the sides of the wood with white-knuckled fingers. _Relax_ , you tell yourself sternly. It’s just sex. What are you making such a big fuss for?

He sets a rhythm, one steady but firm; he seems intent on burying himself as deep as possible with every thrust. When he rearranges his hands on you - one around the back of your neck, one on your hip, his grip is much more sure, much more confident. He holds you down effortlessly, and works his cock steadily in the warmth your body. You yourself know how easy it is to lose oneself in such a sensation, but experiencing it now makes your lungs tighten up, and your body feel too hot. Without thinking, you squirm a bit, as if to wriggle out of his clutches, but his fingers clench down only more strongly. 

“Bendy,” you say tightly, with the intent to follow through with an announcement that you’ve had enough, but Sammy lines up his chest to your back and he breathes in your ear,

“That’s my Lord. My God.”

“Yes, you've made that clear-“

His fingers wrap around your throat.

“He is magnificent, far above my pathetic existence or yours-“ Sammy is practically panting the words while you writhe, “You should respect him, worship him-“ each statement is punctuated with a thrust, “serve him! We are but pawns in his merciful, frightening hands, we - hah - we owe him everything - our lives, our bodies, our souls -“

Sammy continues his rambling, but his movements lose all rhythm; his body trembles. Finally his words short out into little more than a litany of Bendy’s name. It’s only a few moments after that that he climaxes.

Then his grip slackens. His body relaxes. His chest is heaving against you as he recovers. 

You - you have had quite enough. You peel yourself off, his ink clinging to you from your neck to your thighs, and collect yourself a good distance away.

Sammy stumbles back, head tilted up, catching his breath, his fingers caressing lightly over his chest. You find yourself disliking him more than before, although it’s hard to explain why. He's rather hopeless, and he ought to be pitied more than anything, the fool. You fix your cloak, and tug up your pants. “Well, there you go,” you say to Bendy, trying not to sound short. You aren't sure why you're so irritable. Your rear does sting rather badly, though, and your neck aches where he gripped it. Later by the creek perhaps you'll make sure nothing bruised too badly. At any rate, you'd rather be back home now.

Bendy tilts his head to the side. “Ya didn’t even cum, Joxter - gee, is Sammy really that unsatisfying?”

You understand this is meant to be a joke at Sammy’s expense, but you just don’t feel in the right mood. 

“He ain’t never does the trick for me either,” Bendy jibes - yet again, a pointed statement, since you are rather sure Bendy _can’t_ climax. 

“He is absolutely terrible,” you concede, resigned.

Sammy lowers his head, coming down from the high, as his posture resumes a subservient one. “I’m sorry, my Lord.”

Bendy laughs. 

“Shall we head back, then?” You say. You’ve had quite enough of the studio for today. You think you’d like a long smoke to unwind.


End file.
